Merry Christmas
by cattaclysm
Summary: If one asked Evan what he liked most about being with the red-streaked goth, he would mumble something about how dating a non-conformist is on its own the best thing ever. In truth, he wouldn't be able to answer because, at the time everything seems the best. Right now, pounding into the raven on Christmas Eve was the best. -Warning: slash, asphyxiation-


If one asked Evan what he liked most about being with the red-streaked goth, he would mumble something about how dating a non-conformist is on its own the best thing ever. In truth, he wouldn't be able to answer because, at the time everything seems the best. If they were watching TV, he'd think that was the best. If they were reading poetry in silence together with his head resting on the other's shoulder, reading over it, he'd say that was the best.

Just like that, right then, pounding into the shorter goth on Christmas eve was the best.

He wasn't quite sure how it came to be, actually. Notably, they were watching Bride of Chucky, a movie that, god knows why, Dylan practically gets off to. Notably, also, they were both agitated, courtesy of the holidays. He still wasn't sure what had done him in, though.

At one point near the end of the movie, Dylan had decided he had a very liberal interpretation of the term 'personal space'. Liberal meaning he completely disregarded it as his main mission was to crawl onto the other goth's lap, one way or another.

Slowly scooting towards him, Dylan made his first move. He spent around two minutes with his head on the other's shoulder, and then proceeded to slowly move one leg over Evan's. And within minutes he was straddling the raven-haired boy, hands tangled in black curls and trying not to cough from the smoke of his cigarette getting blow into his face. Coughing was so conformist, he assured.

As the longer-haired goth flipped his aforementioned hair out of his face, noticing the other's interested smile, he scowled and tugged at the others hair, hands fisted at the roots and gently pulling.

That seemed to have done it, Evan fell back onto the makeshift-bed which was more of a drop down couch as the other slowly moved on top of him, straddling. He moved out of his T-shirt and ripped open Evan's shirt, biting and licking at the flesh revealed to him.

The taller goth found his hands, however, moving towards Dylan's jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping and gently trailing his fingers along them. Dylan realized he would need to get off the other to take his pants off and did so quickly. Evan extended his hands and pulled Dylan's underwear off, releasing his erection to the once-innocent air of the living room. Pulling the other boy towards him, the curly kid greedily groped at the other, making him whine in his usual raspy voice. Unbuttoning his own jeans and pulling out his own cock, he waited expectantly for the other who moved two fingers to stretch himself lightly and began lowering himself onto the other. Feeling anything short of absolute agony would just be conformist, Dylan thought, feeling a few cold tears slide slowly down his cheeks. He turned his head quickly.

"Are you crying?" Evan frowned, reaching a hand towards the other's face.

"Crying's for fucking conformists, who's crying?" he muttered out, shoving the other away.

"You, you freaking conformist," he smiled and slid himself and Dylan back so he could sit up and lean against the wall, "No one cares, we're conforming right now," he assured and slowly grinded his hips, reminded the other of the length that filled him.

The thrusts came slow, Dylan sure as hell wasn't going to move, but that changed when he felt Evan's hands on his hips. Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to move on his own, he assured himself as the curly goth lifted him and dropped him back onto his dick.

Muffled moans, whines, grunts and groans ensued from both of them, the red-streaked boy dreaded and reveled in every move Evan made. A slow stir of his hips happened to discover something that piqued the taller one's interest. He repeated the motion, slowly, and grinned when he felt the other gasp and bite at his lip. Going over the same spot over and over, Dylan spasmed ever so often as the other pounded into him roughly. Or rather he bounced roughly on top of him. The window was opened, he noted, and it lead onto the street, leaving whoever decided to walk by with a view of two lanky goth kids fucking. Evan found this discovery quite lovely as he noted how Dylan simply reveled in the unintentional exhibitionism.

"How unexpected of you," Evan muttered under his breath between groans.

"Fucking conformist," the shorted goth kid spat, "This is your fault," he breathed.

Finding the accusations false, Evan moved a hand around the boy's throat, having had enough of his insults, and pressed roughly.

Dylan gasped in response, nails digging into the other's back, and shut his eyes as more tears made their way down his face.

He kept a firm grip on the boys throat and pumped his erection quickly with the other hand. He wasn't much more than the common whore at that moment, he realized and moaned wantonly at the thought. Or at least he tried to, it came out as a breathy groan.

With a particularly deep thrust from the other, Dylan came, shooting white liquid on Evan's chest. The tall goth, though, wasn't quite finished, and kept pounding into the other, ignoring his gasps of protest. After a while, he too came, stiffening and filling the other completely.

Slowly, Dylan felt his throat being released, and cringed in pain as air made it through his now free airways. Evan also slowly pulled out of the other, who collapsed onto him as he noted his ass was sore from the beating it took and groaned in pain. He let the other rest on his lap until he took his now ruined shirt and wiped the cum off it, and then hugged Dylan to his chest, resting his head on his

The credits slowly rolled, the people outside could be hear going about their business, buying last-minute gifts and idly talking amongst themselves. The room became much brighter and the outside, much darker. Everything seemed to go back to the way it was as Evan shook the sleep away from his eyes and moved one hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. He blew some air out gently and slowly shut his eyes.

Yes, Evan found everything he was doing with Dylan at the time to be the best.

At the moment, celebrating Christmas was the best.


End file.
